Lovely Trigger (Tristan & Danika #3)(33)

“I think it’s some survival instinct kicking in, some biological, physical drive that kicks in when we’re near each other, because we never got real closure, so our bodies want to cling to each other, because we’re worried we’ll never get the chance again.  You can’t cut someone out of your life like that and not have closure.  We need closure.”

I wanted to quote my therapist to her.  He always said closure was a myth, or at least what people had turned it into was, but I stayed silent, because I wanted her to cling to this theory of hers.

This theory was my ally.  It clearly had her changing her tune after all these years.

I mean, I hated the theory, and I thought it was complete bullshit, but I was in no position to dispute it.  If I could have said what I wanted and not scare her off, I would have pointed out that it’d always been like that between us, there had always been the drive to touch, to feel each other in every way one human could touch another, inside, outside, body, soul.

But I couldn’t say what I wanted to say.  Not yet.

Step one:  Get back into her life again.

Everything else was secondary.  The rest would come with time, God willing.

“Maybe we should set up some ground rules, like only go out with a third wheel, some type of chaperone.”

My smile felt like it wanted to crack my face.  I really, really didn’t like that idea.  “Whatever you think is best.”

She sighed, as though conflicted about it.  “We’re two mature adults.  We shouldn’t have to resort to a babysitter.”

Here, here.

“We’ll keep our hands to ourselves.  It’s just that simple.”

The f**k it is, I thought, giving her my blandest smile.  I wasn’t optimistic enough to think I’d get to f**k her again anytime soon, but I spent a lot of time plotting out how I could get her to let me eat her pu**y.  She became very receptive after I went down on her for a few minutes, I recalled.

I had a brief and intense fantasy where I buried my face between her legs and made her lose it.  I wanted to taste her, even if it was only for a moment.  I needed to know if I remembered even that last detail as well as I thought I did.  How long did a tongue’s memory last?  I badly wanted to find out.

My mind wandered to our encounter from earlier.  It had been so incredible.  The feel of her hot walls closing on me; God, I needed to get a grip.

I couldn’t believe that, even as I sat there, my dick was still covered in the evidence of what we’d done.  That got me thinking about how it couldn’t be that hopeless of a cause.

I started plotting ways to get up to her hotel room with her.

She was still talking, and I tried to pretend that I hadn’t been daydreaming about the things she was talking about never doing again.

“I don’t need conflict, I need peace.  I don’t need chaos, I need order.  I’m dealing with needs here, not wants, not wishes.  And you need to understand that.  You need to respect it.”

I made her look at me, straight in the eye, when I spoke.  “Whatever you need me to be, I’ll be that.  Whatever you want me to do, however we need to make this work, we will do it.”  And it was as I spoke that I realized that I couldn’t seduce her again so soon, certainly not tonight.

I needed to bind her to me again with more than the most incredible sex of my life.

We needed to become best friends again.  Yes, that was how I would do it.  I needed to become so essential in her life that she couldn’t conceive walking away.

I meant to break her.

Needed to break her.

Whether it be with deceit, subterfuge, cold calculation, or sheer willpower alone, I was set in my course.

She’d built a wall up against me.  A wall that seemed to me to be interwoven into her very soul.

For years, I’d thought that wall was impregnable.  But a few words, a few brief encounters had shown me that the wall wasn’t stone, but glass.

I meant to break it, and her, and anything that stood in my way.  I was going to shatter all of the things she used to keep us apart.

It had become my sole purpose.  And if she failed to give, to yield, I’d break myself in the process.

I was prepared for that.  At this point in my life, with what I’d learned from our separation, I was willing to risk it.

“So it’s pretty obvious you’re never going to call me.  Let’s start with baby steps.  How about you just start to actually answer when I call you?”

She chewed on her lip for a minute and then nodded.

“And we work in the same building, so how about I come by sometimes, and say hi, and you don’t call security, or hell, our boss, to get me to stay away?”

That got me a rueful smile and another nod.

“And you let me walk you up to your hotel room.  We can cuddle for a few hours, no funny business.”  I smiled.  She’d say no, but it would be sassy and cute, so I tried anyway.

She rolled her eyes, a corner of her pretty mouth kicking up.  “Not happening.”

“Well, I had to try.”

Our cheeseburgers arrived, and we ate.  The burger must have been good, because she ate the whole thing, wasting lots of her allotted calories on it.